Naughty

by Velvet

  13

  MIRA COULDN’T get Sam’s words out of her head. It’s over kept ringing in her ears as if it were on rewind. Mira had called Sam earlier that day for one of their afternoon lovemaking sessions. She expected Sam to drop everything like she had done so many times before, but Sam dropped a bomb on her instead, and abruptly ended their relationship. She said that Mira was too clingy and demanding. Sam also said that she, too, had a business to run, and couldn’t afford to drop her clients at a moment’s notice for a booty call. Mira was hurt. She had grown accustomed to Sam being at her beck and call. Mira was used to getting her way. Midway through her adolescence, GG stepped in and moved Mira in with her. Rose gladly gave up her daughter. She preferred spending time partying to taking care of a child. Trying to make up for the neglect, GG spoiled Mira to death, giving her anything she wanted. Now as an adult Mira still expected people to give in to her whims. But Sam had had enough.

  Not being the sulking or begging type, Mira didn’t skip a beat. She was a realist, and knew there was no sense in trying to talk someone into being with you when they obviously didn’t want to. However, she was still horny, and determined to have sex. Since Sam was now history, she dusted off her custom-made Venetian mask, put on a gold thong and gold stilettos, wrapped herself in a black satin evening coat, and headed out the door.

  Mira had been a member of the Black Door since they first opened. She wasn’t a regular, but kept her membership active in case of a sexual emergency, and tonight definitely qualified as urgent.

  The cab ride up the West Side Highway was smooth sailing. It was late at night, and traffic was light. Mira paid the driver once he pulled up in front of the club, but before exiting, she strapped on her mask, adjusted the belt around her coat, and stepped out. Mira sauntered toward the black shiny door and tapped lightly.

  A tiny window slid open, and all she could see was a pair of piercing, coal black eyes. “Password, please,” the keeper of the gate demanded in a deep, baritone voice.

  “Powerbroker Pussy,” Mira replied. She noticed his eyes glancing down, as if he were looking at some type of list. A few seconds later, she heard a bolt slide, and then he opened the door.

  “I don’t need tweaking,” she said to him before he asked. Having been to the club a few times before, Mira knew that the doorman digitally stimulated the members once they stepped inside. Her pussy was already moist, therefore she didn’t need his fingers roaming across her clit. Mira walked into the main parlor, but bypassed the vodka fountain. She didn’t need any liquid encouragement either. The only thing she needed was to get laid, and that’s exactly what she intended to do, so she headed directly to the second level looking for lust.

  Once upstairs, Mira untied her belt. As she walked down the hallway, her coat flowed open, exposing her bare breasts, tight torso, and tiny thong. The club was lively, and Mira slowed her pace to get an eyeful of the activities that were taking place. Her peripheral vision caught sight of a server nailing a member against the wall. The woman’s legs were wrapped around his waist, and he was gripping her naked ass as he rammed his rod deep into her hot box. Mira heard the woman moan out in ecstasy. Get that dick, girl, Mira mused as she passed them.

  Mira decided to go into the Pink Room, which was where most of the lesbians hung out. Everything in the room was pink, from the furniture to the carpeting to the cocktails. Mira removed her coat and settled herself on one of the vacant sofas.

  “Hmm, don’t you look tasty?”

  Mira looked up and standing before her was a member wearing a white wife-beater, a pair of tight jeans, and a tangerine mask. The woman bore a striking resemblance to Sam. Mira couldn’t see her entire face, but her muscular body was a dead ringer. Suddenly Sam’s words, It’s over, started ringing in her ears again. Mira thought she wanted her clit licked by a chick, but the pain of Sam’s rejection was too fresh. And after seeing the couple fucking in the hallway, she decided that she wanted some dick instead. “Excuse me,” she said to the member as she got up to leave.

  “Where’re you going?” the woman asked.

  “To get laid. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said again.

  Mira made her way to the Leopard Lounge, sat at the bar, and perused the room. It was too dark to make out much of anything, so she ordered a Cumtini and waited to get propositioned. With her firm breasts exposed, it didn’t take long for a server to approach.

  “Hey, sexy.”

  “Hey, yourself.” Mira swiveled around on the bar stool to get a better look. She couldn’t see the bottom half of his face clearly, but his neck was thick, like a linebacker’s. I wonder if his dick is as thick. Her eyes continued down his body, stopping at his muscular chest and continuing onto his taut midsection, then traveled south beyond the waistband of his jeans. Even though it was dark, she could see the bulge protruding from his jeans. She swallowed hard. Mira hadn’t had a real penis inside of her body since her engagement, and up until now, she hadn’t missed it.

  “You up for some fun?” he asked, glaring at her boobs.

  Mira crossed her legs and poked her chest out farther. “What did you have in mind?”

  He stepped closer, so that his cock brushed against her thigh. “I’m thinking first you might want to find out what I’m packing.”

  She could feel him admiring her assets, and it made her feel like a woman. Not that being with another female made her feel any less feminine, but somehow a man’s appreciation of her body was more gratifying. Mira equated the feeling to her being more bisexual than homosexual, but at the moment she was feeling totally heterosexual. At his invitation, she began caressing his package. It was warm and hard. She slowly unzipped his jeans, careful not to catch his peter in the process. She then reached inside and pulled out what he had to offer. His offering was more than substantial. Not only was he long, but the circumference of his penis was thicker than two silver dollars wielded together. “Nice,” Mira heard herself say.

  “You like what you see?”

  She rubbed the round tip. “Yes, I do.”

  “You want what you see?”

  Their verbal foreplay was making her hotter. “Yes.”

  He leaned down and lightly kissed the soft skin in between her breasts, and then trailed his tongue from one nipple to the next, until he heard her gasp. “Come on,” he whispered in her ear.

  Mira stepped off the stool and followed him to the back of the lounge where the private booths were. He sat down and pulled her on top of him. She straddled him until she could feel his girth grow beneath her moistness. “Fuck me,” she hissed in his ear.

  “Slow down, little lady,” he said, resting his hands on her hips.

  Mira was accustomed to being in control and didn’t like taking a backseat. “What’s the problem? Can’t you keep it up?”

  He lifted his hips and poked his penis deeper against her vulva. “Does this feel up to you?”

  Mira couldn’t help but smile. His dick was harder than earlier, and the tip was wedging its way past the thin thong into her waiting canal. She opened her legs wider to allow him easier access. “Now that it’s up, why don’t you follow through and complete the task?” she said, sounding like the CEO that she was.

  He didn’t say another word. He grabbed her ass cheeks with both hands, spreading them apart. He then rammed her once with his weapon, stopped, waited a few seconds, and rammed her again. His rhythm was erratic, and it was driving her crazy trying to anticipate his next thrust. “Come on. Give it to me!”

  “I see you’re one of them control freaks.” He gave her another hard thrust. “But you ain’t controlling shit tonight!” He slapped her ass.

  Mira flinched, not only at his touch, but also from his words. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone speaking to her harshly. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, being manhandled felt good, so she decided to go with his program. After all, he was the professional and she was going to let him do his job.

  Once she submitted, he pushed his penis
deep inside of her, fucking her with such force that he nearly bounced her off of his lap. “Is this what you want? To get fucked?” he asked between clinched teeth as he grabbed her waist and pressed her farther down onto his shaft.

  He was penetrating Mira so deeply that she could barely talk. “Yeess,” was the only word that she was able to utter.

  His random ramming became a succinct rhythm. Mira wrapped her arms around his neck and rode him like a prized steer. They fucked hard for what seemed like hours, when in actuality it was only minutes, but in those few minutes, Mira came harder than she had ever come in her life. She had to admit, getting fucked by a man was much better than getting fucked with a strap-on. However she still enjoyed the softness of a woman’s lips on her pussy. When they finished, her V-spot was aching, and her thighs were sore—a sure sign of hard-core fornication. He had punished her pussy, and his assault was just what she needed to forget about her lost love.

  14

  “YOU’RE QUIET this trip.”

  As usual, Monica had her finger on the pulse of Kennedy’s feelings. Kennedy was in a sulky mood because Nigel Charles was on board, focusing his attention on a stack of papers spread out on the pullout table in front of his seat, instead of focusing on her. Not that she expected him to bow at her feet, but it would’ve been nice if he took notice. He barely looked in her direction when she served him dinner. “I’m not in a talkative mood,” she responded, arranging the miniature bottles of port on the liquor shelf.

  “You need to change your mood and mosey on over and talk to Mr. Man,” Monica said, referring to Nigel.

  “Thank you, but no. I’m not interested in making a fool out of myself. He doesn’t even know I exist,” she sulked, sounding like a jilted ex-girlfriend.

  Monica peeked her head out of the galley to see what Nigel was doing. “Maybe you’re right. He does seem to be preoccupied with work,” she commented, noticing the menagerie of documents spread out before him. “He’s busy with paperwork and talking on the phone.”

  “What could be so important that he has to waste money on an in-flight call? Those international rates are astronomical,” Kennedy added, secretly wishing that he was talking to her instead of whoever was on the other end of the line.

  “He’s probably not paying for the call out of pocket anyway. I bet he’s some type of bigwig with a hefty expense account,” Monica surmised.

  “I’m sure you’re right, even though he looks more like a model than a businessman,” Kennedy said, finally acknowledging his appearance. His wavy hair was cropped close and lined perfectly as if he had just gotten a fresh haircut. His eyes were tiny slits, with an Asian look to them, and his bronzy complexion was flawless. The one feature on his face that had her captivated was his luscious-looking lips. His bottom lip was fuller than the top one, and she could just picture herself sucking on it. Kennedy could feel her desire for him heating up. Even though she didn’t know Nigel, it didn’t stop her from wanting to fuck him. Kennedy’s sexuality had been awakened at an early age, and it just kept growing. Now, as an adult, she didn’t have a problem with expressing herself sexually, but she realized that acting on her every impulse wasn’t wise. Kennedy couldn’t help but think about the conversation she had with Naomi regarding finding the Black Door. The club would relieve her sexual tension, which she needed desperately, before she became impulsive and sexed up a stranger. Kennedy’s panties were getting moist at the thought, and she quickly changed the subject before she began drooling. “Anyway, enough about him, we need to start the turn-down service,” she said abruptly.

  They were on an overnight flight from South Africa to New York, and had another twelve hours before touching down in the Big Apple. Kennedy went through the cabin and took one last check before dimming the lights for the evening.

  “Okay, we’ll continue this conversation once I get stateside,” Nigel said, finishing his call and putting the phone back in the cradle.

  “Would you care for a nightcap, maybe a port or some brandy?” Kennedy offered, approaching his seat.

  He looked up into her eyes and stared as if seeing her for the first time tonight, then said, “Excuse me?”

  She was shocked into silence by his piercing stare, a stare that seemed to penetrate her soul. For a moment, Kennedy felt a cosmic connection with him, but quickly shook it off. It was probably the altitude—coupled with lust—that had her head swimming in the clouds. “Would you care for a nightcap?” she repeated.

  “No, thank you, but I would like another pillow if you have one available.”

  “Sure, no problem.” She walked to the utility closet in front of the plane and took out a small, square, down pillow. When she returned, he had his head turned toward the window with his eyes shut. Not wanting to disturb him, she tipped away and checked on the rest of the passengers.

  Once everyone was tucked in for the night, Kennedy went back to her compartment and settled in with her book club selection of the month, A Few Dollars and a Dream, which was actually quite good; the main plot focused on an ex-con who was trying to finance his dream of opening a youth center. Because of the misdemeanors he had committed in his youth, banks wouldn’t give him the time of day. His only alternative to raise the money for the center was to do a “favor” for a local street pharmacist. All he had to do was drop off a “package” and he would get paid. He carefully weighed the pros and cons, then decided against his better judgment to make the drop. The first delivery went as smooth as silk without incident, which led to a second and third drop, until he was back in the business fulltime, making more money in ten minutes than most people made in ten hours. Realizing that he didn’t want to land back in the clink, he decided to make one last delivery. But just when he thought he was home free, an attractive female undercover detective nabbed him after he completed the drop. After interrogating him and learning that he wasn’t the average drug dealer, but a man who was trying to keep kids from following in his tainted footsteps, she called in a few favors to keep him out of jail. Soon her attraction to the sexy ex-con heated up and they began a torrid affair.

  “If she can find romance on the streets, why can’t I find it in the sky?” Kennedy mused, and turned off the light in her compartment for a little shut-eye. A full bladder and a few air pockets later, she was up and on her way to the lavatory. The two restrooms in first class were occupied, so she made her way back through coach. The cabin was quiet except for the soft sounds of sleeping passengers.

  “I could’ve stayed in first,” she mumbled, looking at the red occupied signs on both lavatories. Kennedy crossed and recrossed her legs as she waited impatiently. Thinking that the restrooms in first were probably now available, she turned to walk away.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  Kennedy swung around, and her mouth fell open as she stood there in shock like Bambi caught in the crosshairs. Standing in the doorway of the lavatory was Nigel Charles.

  “Come here,” he whispered, crooking his finger back and forth, gesturing it toward her.

  Kennedy looked around the cabin for prying eyes, but everyone seemed to be sound asleep. She took a step forward, and when she got within arm’s distance of Nigel, he pulled her into the lavatory and quickly closed the door. Standing there face-to-face inside the tiny confines of the restroom, she could feel heat emanating from his body. Kennedy opened her mouth to speak, but the words were caught somewhere between her mind and her larynx. Their eyes seemed to say what their mouths could not. His eyes searched her face, as if memorizing every minute detail.

  “What are you do . . . ” she attempted to say.

  He put his finger to her lips before she could complete the sentence, then slowly removed his index finger and replaced it with his lips. He kissed Kennedy softly, introducing his lips to hers. Once the introduction was made, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him so close that their bodies seemed to mesh into one. Their tongues did a sensuous duet, moving to a silent, seductive rhythm, un
til she suddenly pulled back. Though she desired him, she didn’t want to jeopardize her job by making out in the bathroom. “What are you doing?” Kennedy asked, this time completing the question.

  He took half a step back, but held firm to her waist. “I’m sorry. I know this must seem as if it’s coming out of the blue, but I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time. You’re so beautiful, and I just couldn’t help myself. Please forgive me if I’ve offended you.”

  “I thought you were disinterested. You never seem to notice me,” she said, sounding slightly annoyed that he hadn’t said anything until now.

  “Notice you?” He chuckled. “How could I miss you? You’re a knockout. I was smitten the very first time I saw your face.”

  “You never said anything. As a matter of fact you never even looked twice in my direction.”

  “Trust me, I looked,” he said, licking his lips. “You just never caught me staring.”

  “Then why didn’t you say something before now?” She wanted to know.

  He looked away for a moment, and then turned back to her. “To be honest, I’ve been burned in the past and I’m a little gun-shy.”

  “Well, pulling me into the restroom surely wasn’t a shy move.”

  He blushed and then said, “I apologize again if I offended you. I didn’t plan to pounce on you like that, but when the opportunity presented itself, I thought fate was telling me to take a chance, so I went for it.”

  “I’m glad you did.” She blushed back.

  He extended his hand. “I’m Nigel Charles,” he said, making a formal introduction.

  “Kennedy Bryant.” She shook his hand.

  “Well, Ms. Bryant, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to start from square one and take you out to dinner.”